


Batfam

by beechee



Series: Take My Hand (And Set Me Free) [5]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Hawkeye (Comics), Young Avengers
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Gen, Kid Fic, M/M, Multi, Queerplatonic Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-06
Updated: 2015-01-06
Packaged: 2018-03-06 09:42:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3129962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beechee/pseuds/beechee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some years ago, Steve, Sam, Natasha, and Bucky adopted an orphan--they had worked with her moms often, and in the wake of their death, theirs was the most stable home available. America likes it with them, really! Most of the time. When they don't have to work. They do their best to make their work schedules up to her, though. </p><p>(This universe is officially some ungodly AU wherein I yank parts from every source I please. But it's all cute, and as IC as I know how to make it.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Batfam

America comes barreling into the room with her usual explosiveness, yelling "Samdad!!" at the top of her not inconsiderable lungs--had anyone told Sam that a four year old could be this incessantly  _loud_ , he wouldn't have believed them. And yet, here she is. He's crouching and opening his arms before he even really registers that he's moving, welcomes her with "Not the country!" and it's a good thing too because just as he shifts his weight onto the balls of his feet he's got two armfuls of frizz. A lesser man might have landed on his tailbone, but Sam's kind of the greatest, (read: has been working out with three  _superhumans_  for long enough to be able to catch a four year old) and so he pivots with the impact, spins his weight back onto his heels as he straightens and swings her in a circle. She laughs while he does so, loud and delighted and utterly sure of herself and her safety in his grip. 

He does drop back to his haunches when he's done, settles America back onto her own two feet and boops her nose hello. "Hey, munchkin, where's Natdad?" America squints at him, her tiny face the picture of gravity, leans towards him and says in her best approximation of a whisper, "Natdad had to go to  _work_."  Sam gasps, widens his eyes in the appropriate reaction, and fights not to grin at the disgust America manages to imbue the word with. "Not  _work_ ," he says, and America nods. "I gotta change my favorite 'cos of it." She informs him gravely. "First Stevedad had to go to work, then Buckydad, now Natdad-- _Batman_  don't go off and leave  _Robin_  at home." 

"Neither did I," Sam protests. Yeah, okay, he's a traitor. He'd throw each of them under the bus for America, they'd do the same. She's just too cute, okay. He's just a mortal man. America's frown brightens into a thoughtful expression, mischief dances in her eyes. And that's the story of how an exhausted and beat up trio of superheroes came home to their supportive and lovely family to find their supportive and lovely family playing Batman and Robin. Goddamnit. 

Sam is Batdad for an entire  _month_  after that--he really hadn't planned on letting it go on so long, but every time America calls him Batdad his heart melts a little bit in his chest, and shut up okay, he's not the disciplinarian here. Natasha buys him a cowl, one of those cheap ones you can pick up at any dollar general--maybe she means it to be a subtle jab at him for staying America's favorite the longest, but the truth is that he manages to keep a straight face when she hands it to him, manages to keep from laughing while they're in the same room, makes it all the way to the special soundproof bathroom before he can't help himself any more, collapses into laughter that's nearly as loud as America's usually is. And that's something--the girl is  _loud_. Of course, he'd forgotten to entirely shut the door, which means that when he gets himself under control, there's a largely impassive Bucky standing in the doorway, and a slightly concerned Steve flanking him. He just holds up the Batman cowl weakly in explanation with one hand, wipes the tears from laughter from his eyes with the other. 

It's Bucky whose lips twitch into a smile first, but Steve folds over with silent laughter mere seconds after Bucky's started looking amused. 

Sam can't see her, but he's willing to bet Natasha is smiling too, from wherever she's secreted herself. It's the next day that Sam hears a delighted "Catdad!" from the living room, and knows that Natasha has decided to up the ante. Walking to the living room just confirms it: Natasha has stripped down one of her Widow suits, and bought herself a mask of her own. Notably, the mask is failing utterly at holding down her mass of red hair, and she's got a child on her hip who's got a fistful of it, along with a smug smirk on the part of her face that the mask doesn't cover. America spots Sam almost instantly, says "Batdad, look! It's Catdad!" with an enthusiasm that's hard not to succumb to. Bucky and Steve are still asleep. so Sam beams wide at America, but puts a finger to his lips. "Shh," he says, "we're going to go show uncle Clint, okay? And we're not goin to take Stevedad or Buckydad, just Catdad and Batdad with Robin." 

America beams back even wider, and in her clumsy mumble-whisper she exclaims "Just the Bat family!"

This goes over with Nat about as well as when she'd christened them the America family, but in the ensuing confusion, Sam gets all three of them bundled up and out the door. America walks between the Nat and Sam, holding on to one hand each and swinging her arms like she's a human pinwheel. 

Hours later, Natasha and Clint are leaning against his kitchen counter watching Sam get completely bowled over by the combined force of Kate and America. After a long silence, Clint asks "Cat _dad_?" His tone is carefully neutral, and instead of Natasha's fiery anger he is rewarded with a careful shrug. Natasha doesn't look away from the scene in front of her when she answers. "You remember her moms. She took it hard when they died. We wanted to make sure she knew that we weren't trying to replace them."

Clint nods, takes the half step to the side needed to press the two of them arm to arm, and then presumes to slip an arm over her shoulders, draw her close. She's tense for a moment, but life with the others has been good for her, and she relaxes, leans her head onto his shoulder--into the crook of his neck, really. Once she does, Clint says "You're doing a good job, you know. She's happy." 'Tasha nods incrementally, then punches him in the side. He gets her meaning, stops pushing his luck, and settles in to just appreciate watching their kids play together. But she really has grown over the past few years because after about a half hour of silence that is punctuated only by the shouts of the two kids and the lower exclamations of Sam, Nat mutters "You too." 

And that's enough for Clint. 


End file.
